


The Gift Of You

by sphinx01



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Childhood Memories, Emotions, M/M, Reunions, Sibling Bonding, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphinx01/pseuds/sphinx01
Summary: This ten-year rift between them just feels wrong, and the need to seal it forces them towards each other like the hot, strong winds of their desert homeland.
Relationships: Edgar Roni Figaro/Macías "Mash" Rene Figaro | Sabin Rene Figaro
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	The Gift Of You

**The Gift Of You**

**xxx**

In hindsight, it feels like they spent most of their childhood in physical contact with each other.

Be it at the dinner table, during lessons, at play, or while lazing the afternoon away in the shades of the royal gardens - there was always an arm slung across a shoulder, feet being touched to one another, fingers intertwining or kisses pressed to cheeks and foreheads. It was a given to them, as natural as breathing. Even the slow awakening of their bodies to adulthood didn’t stop them from wrapping their arms around each other or curling up in the same bed when one of them felt the need for such a thing. Their nursemaid deemed it “unhealthy” for boys of their age to still be bedmates, and took to making inspection rounds in the evenings to make sure each of them was in his own bed. But between the two of them, it was easy to outsmart her.

What did the interfering old crone know, anyway? She didn’t understand the need to be in tune with each other, to make sure the other was still there, to feel their hearts beat in unison as they had done long before they’d drawn their first breaths or opened their eyes for the first time.

But then Life happened, and they had to learn to be without each other.

Now, ten years later, they have both lived their own lives, become their own separate persons. One would think that they’ve outgrown the desire for this “twin thing”, as they used to call it.

But this ten-year rift between them just feels _wrong_ , and the need to seal it forces them towards each other like the hot, strong winds of their desert homeland.

So they touch.

Sabin is fascinated by Edgar’s hair. It’s always been longer than his own, but now it’s like a golden waterfall down his back, and Sabin can spend hours just running his fingers through it or trying to whip it into all kinds of different braids. His brother is a bit too thin for his liking (he doesn’t eat much), but he’s still ticklish; Sabin can make him jump and squeak rather unmanly simply by poking a random body part. Edgar’s got an open-end wrench tattooed onto his right hip, a discovery Sabin won’t let him hear the end of any time soon, and when he kisses his brother’s neck and strokes his ears, Edgar will purr like a contended cat and relax more deeply than Sabin has ever seen a human being relax. Edgar’s hands are rougher, more calloused than Sabin remembers, but he still tastes like clean spring water. A lifetime of separation couldn’t make Sabin forget the taste of his brother’s skin on his lips.

Edgar still hasn’t gotten used to the sheer _mass_ of his brother. When they slept in the same bed as children, he was always the one doing the spooning, holding his brother close, now it’s the other way round. Sabin is strong enough to lift him - and has done so on occasion, mostly to tease him, but also to get him out of harm’s way when a monster attacked. There are scars traversing the smooth muscles, and Edgar makes a habit of tracing those with his fingers, trying to read the history lying hidden in each one. Sabin’s smell is different, like earth and wind and trees, and unlike Edgar, he isn’t very diligent about shaving. But that’s alright, because every time Sabin presses his face against his brother’s bare skin, the slightly burning scratch of his stubble gives Edgar the most delicious tingles.

So they relearn each other, little by little. And if one (or both) of them gets hard while they lie huddled up to one another in their tent, hands sliding under clothes and lips tasting skin as they try to find their harmony again, then there’s no shame in it, because that is the natural reaction of a body to being so near to someone so beloved. And sometimes, when they cling close as they stroke each other to completion, drinking in each other’s scent and warmth, they will whisper it, hushed words in the darkness:

_~I love you, Roni.~_

_~I love you, Rene.~_

**_*Fin*_ **

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first twincest fic, and I hope I've done them justice. These wonderfull boys really got my muse going :)


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